Brother
by Order of Arcadia
Summary: Keith kind of said something important. Maybe Shiro should reciprocate. Missing conversation between Keith and Shiro after the end of Season 6. No slash, broganes, etc.


**Brother**

Shiro was back.

Keith could hardly believe it. He'd _been_ there, and it still seemed so unreal.

He'd watched as Allura put Shiro's spirit back into the clone's head. He watched his eyes burst open, glazed over purple with internal light, and then clear into the familiar brown. He watched Shiro sit up, coughing, _breathing_ , sucking air into lungs that he hadn't used for who knows how long in the astral plane, and when Shiro slumped weakly in sudden fatigue Keith had caught him and held him in his arms.

Shiro was back. The danger was past; Lotor was no longer a threat; it was over.

So why, Keith wondered, couldn't he get himself to calm down?

He was pacing the Black Lion's spacious cockpit, tossing his helmet from one hand to another, and trying but failing to stay away from the door to the former armory where Shiro was sleeping. They'd been traveling for hours, and not at top speed, either; he missed the Castle's wormholes already.

For the first hour or so, he'd tried to distract himself by bantering over the comm links with the team, but too many of Lance's puns and Pidge's snarky remarks and that got old fast.

Keith couldn't help feeling antsy. Something was wrong. He didn't know what; he just felt it. He had to keep moving. So he started pacing instead and let the communicator stay on to distract him.

He didn't know what he was thinking about, but he knew very well what he was trying hard _not_ to think about.

* * *

 _The snarl on his face and murder in his eyes. He'd never seen Shiro that angry, that_ cold _._

 _Keith had stopped the energy sword just an inch from his face, but he screamed in pain as the heat alone burned a line up his neck and cheek._

 _Shiro was trying to kill him._

 _Shiro was trying to…_

 _Shiro..._

* * *

Keith came back to himself, gasping for breath, and slapped his face to make sure he was back in reality.

 _Oww_. That was dumb. He'd slapped the side with the scar.

Every polished surface in Black's cockpit was slightly reflective, but the windows were the best. When it wasn't blown out by the light of passing stars, Keith could see his reflection faintly on a background of space's blackness pricked with light.

He could see it now. The faint purple-ish line on his face was still there.

The scar was raised slightly from the surface of his skin, and it felt glossy and strange when he touched it.

 _Don't think about it. Don't think about how you got it again._

He started pacing.

It didn't matter anymore. The clone was dead. The man sleeping on the other side of that door might have been in the same body, sure, but it was the real Shiro.

 _It's okay. It's really him this time. He won't hurt you. He won't die. He won't leave again. He_ won't _hurt you._

 _Everything is fine._

Keith sucked in a shaky breath and let it out.

It was going to take some convincing.

Part of him wanted to wake Shiro up and check that he hadn't gone rogue again. The rational part of his brain, which knew that wouldn't happen, just wanted to let Shiro sleep.

He needed it, and he deserved it, after everything that had happened.

Keith gave up trying to fight the magnetic pull that kept leading him back to that room. He slumped into a sitting position against the wall by Shiro's door and let his head roll back and thump against the cold metal.

 _Stop it. Stop thinking about it._

Maybe the chill of the metal would distract him.

Keith shut his eyes and tried to push it all out of his mind. He listened to the rumble of the ship soaring through space, to the gentle creaking of the enormous joints, to the soft purr of Black's voice at the back of his consciousness. He let the helmet in his hands drop between his knees.

 _Don't think about anything. And_ definitely _don't think about Shiro._

Maybe that's why he was so surprised when the door slid open with a _whoosh_.

Keith jumped like a kid caught misbehaving, and his helmet clunked and clattered to the floor. There was Shiro, staring down at him and looking like he'd just been asleep; white hair tousled, clothes slightly wrinkled, and slight lines under his eyes.

He looked tired, but tall and very much alive, and after a split second of surprise he smiled at Keith. "Hey," he said.

Keith tried to bite down his surprise. "Hey…" His voice betrayed him.

Shiro turned around and stepped back into his room, pressing a button on the keypad by the doorframe as he passed it.

The door stayed open.

Keith knew an invitation when he saw one.

He grabbed his helmet and got off the floor in one smooth motion. As he stepped through the door, he pressed the same button Shiro had. The door slid shut.

Shiro was already sitting on the edge of his berth, his one remaining elbow propped on his knee—looking exhausted, but calm.

He looked neither murderous nor dead.

 _Stop it. Stop thinking about it._

Keith stepped forward, minding the creak of his boots on the armory floor, and set his helmet down on a nearby crate. It was dimly lit in the tiny room. Only a blue Altaen lantern burned softly in the corner.

It made Keith want to whisper, somehow. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

Shiro smiled. "Better," he said. Honesty seeped all through his voice—as it should have. "Though I could still sleep for two weeks." He turned his head, taking a closer look at Keith. "How about you?"

There was barely disguised concern in his voice. Keith wondered if he was looking at the scar.

"I'm okay," Keith answered. It wasn't the most honest thing to say, but, hey—he was too used to it to say anything different.

He sat beside Shiro on the edge of the berth, careful not to jostle him too much. Deciding to change the subject off of his well-being, Keith asked, "How did you know I was outside the door?"

Shiro chuckled and slumped back against the wall. "Brother instinct, I guess," he said, cracking one eye open.

 _Brother…?_

The realization crashed onto Keith like a Pythageian boulder, and his eyes blew up wide.

* * *

 _He'd been a split second from death. Shiro—or he thought it was Shiro—had him a split second and two inches from death._

 _He had to get through. He had to say something. Shiro_ had _to be in there somewhere._

 _"Shiro, please," Keith begged, struggling against the sword blade. His voice was clogged with emotion and terror. "You're my_ brother _. I love you…"_

* * *

He'd said that to the clone. He remembered distinctly. But now Shiro was in the clone's head. All those memories—the entire _battle_ —

"You...you remembered it," whispered Keith.

Shiro's voice was thin from something more than exhaustion, and his gaze was far away. "I remember everything…"

Keith couldn't wrap his mind around it. Shiro knew everything the clone had ever said and everything it had ever done. He could see the battle...relive it...see how close Keith came to—to—

Shiro was staring puzzledly at the ceiling, but there was a slight smile on his face. "It'll be nice to meet your mom," he said lightly. "You know—for real."

Keith frowned. And then his teeth gritted.

Shiro couldn't just pretend it was better. That it was nothing. Not just like _that_.

"D-don't change the subject." Keith spun around, confronting him, and blurted—maybe more intensely than he meant to, "I-I need you to know that I meant everything I said. _All_ of it."

* * *

 _"I love you…"_

* * *

Shiro's white eyebrows went up slightly. He didn't move otherwise. He reached down and laid his hand on top of Keith's, which rested on the mattress.

"I know," Shiro said softly.

Shiro must have known Keith better than he thought.

When had Keith ever made any indication that he was grateful for Shiro? That he appreciated him being there? Keith thought back to all the years they'd known each other; years he'd only spent as an angry, trouble-making kid, never stopping to appreciate what Shiro did for him, always taking his kindness for granted.

Keith got Shiro in trouble. Keith gave Shiro a hard time. Keith was the problem kid; Shiro was the honor student.

And he never said thank you. He'd had so many chances over the years to tell his mentor, his _brother_ how much he really meant to him, and he didn't.

Not until now.

"I guess we're not very good at saying it, are we?" Keith heard his voice rasp a little. It was the universe's biggest understatement.

Shiro shrugged and hummed noncommittally. He'd closed his eyes. "In your case, I think it's justified," he murmured.

Keith wondered what Shiro could possibly think "justified" not telling your brother that you loved him.

At the same time, it hurt a little. With Shiro slumped against the wall like that, Keith couldn't help but feel that he should leave him be and let him sleep. He probably _had_ been asleep until he heard Keith outside the door. And yet, instead of asking him to leave, Shiro had invited him in.

Keith was intruding. He knew he should leave.

But selfishly, an answer like "I know" fell short. It had taken him this long to say it, so he knew he didn't deserve it, but he just wanted to hear it returned—just once in his life, to hear the words—

"I love you too," whispered Shiro.

Keith's eyes shot wide, and he stared at Shiro.

Shiro cracked his eyes open just slightly and smiled at him. It looked stupid, and sleepy...and compassionate, and _real_.

Keith felt warmth spread through his chest, and he managed a crooked grin back.

His brother was back.

Keith kicked his boots off onto the armory floor and scooted backwards. He slouched against the wall beside Shiro and leaned on his shoulder. Shiro put his head on top of his.

Keith felt comfortable. He hadn't felt this way around Shiro for the past few months he'd been with him; and, well, now that made sense.

* * *

 _"Which one is that one?" Shiro pointed up into the night sky, the flannel sleeve of his jacket falling up his arm._

 _Keith leaded his head back until it rested on Shiro's shoulder and squinted at the constellation. "Cassiopeia."_

 _"And that one?" He pointed elsewhere in the sky._

 _Keith turned his head. "Sagittarius."_

 _"And that one?"_

 _"Gemini. C'mon, give me a hard one."_

 _Shiro chuckled. "You're good at this. If your behavior was just as good as your memorization skills, you'd get straight A's." He leaned back on the picnic blanket, looking satisfied with himself._

 _"Hey! It's not my fault that all the other kids are morons," Keith groused._

 _"Where did you learn that word?"_

 _Keith rolled his eyes. "'Moron' isn't a bad word, Shiro."_

 _"No, but it's still mean. You shouldn't use it to talk about people."_

 _"What, like 'stupid'?"_

 _"Yes, like 'stupid'."_

 _"I'm not twelve anymore, you know."_

 _"And that's why you should know better. Only stupid people use 'stupid'."_

 _"You're stupid."_

 _"And you've just incriminated yourself."_

 _"Stop using big words that I don't know!"_

 _Shiro laughed, light and carefree, and Keith crossed his arms and pouted. Stupid Shiro._

* * *

It was in quiet moments like that that they used to talk, when it was just the two of them and they were all alone. It was familiar and safe.

And once again, Keith found himself talking.

"I don't really know what to do anymore." The tone of his voice made it sound light and harmless, and not the terrifying thing that it was. "I've got my family back—" He thought of his dad's gravestone and added with a frown, "well, as much of it as I can, anyway."

Shiro had managed to keep his eyes cracked open this long, and he was listening as Keith talked, his expression full of gentleness and sympathy.

"Krolia—" Keith stopped himself, eyebrows furrowed, and reconsidered. "M-Mom—and I were on our mission for two years together, but..."

Shiro's face scrunched up in confusion. He looked a little upset. "I was gone for two years...?" he asked quietly, raising his one remaining hand to stare at it.

"N-no," Keith amended with a slight smile, pointing at himself with his thumb, " _I_ was gone for two years. We were in some kind of a passage in space that's unaffected by space-time because of the unstable gravity of nearby stars, and—"

For the first time that conversation, Shiro's eyes were fully open, and he stared at Keith. Keith could see the gears in his head jamming with confusion and lack of sleep as he tried to take it all in.

Keith frowned at his lap. Maybe he wasn't the best person to explain this. His hand dropped into his lap.

"It's complicated."

Shiro's expression cleared. He gave a small laugh, leaned back, and shut his eyes. " _That_ would be the title of our biography," he quipped.

It was a lame joke, but Keith laughed anyway. He let his shoulders quiver, and laughed a little harder when Shiro's infectious chuckle joined in.

 _Man_ , it felt good to laugh. He needed the levity.

But Keith returned to his thoughts eventually. He couldn't just leave his sentence hanging. "I got to spend all of that time with her. I know her pretty well by now, I just..." He frowned. "Can't get myself to think of her as my mom. I can't—"

He could feel his face crumple, as he leaned on Shiro's shoulder. It felt wrong. He felt like something about him was broken. She _was_ his mom. He should have been able to accept her as that. Why couldn't he? What was wrong with him? _Why-?_

Shiro pulled his arm up from where it lay between them on the mattress and threw it around Keith's shoulders. "Hey," he said.

And just like that, all of Keith's chaotic thoughts shot out of his brain like petroleum plasma out of an Ocran plant. He'd waited for _years_ to feel Shiro's arm on his shoulders again.

So he stopped listening to the frantic voices in his head, and looked up at Shiro instead, to listen to him.

Shiro's expression was serious, but his voice was gentle. "Your family can be whoever you want it to be," he said simply.

Keith took a second to let that sink in.

And then, with a nostalgic smile, Shiro added, "That's what I learned the moment I saw you."

 _Warmth._ Keith couldn't help but return a crooked smile. There was just warmth all over that. And Keith knew he had to believe it.

His thoughts took him back years to the moment that Shiro was talking about, and a question occurred to him that he'd always been reluctant to ask. Why didn't Shiro just let him go to the foster home? Whey did he save him from bouncing from family to family, looking for and failing to find a place he belonged?

"Why did you take me in?" he asked.

Once upon a time, Keith wouldn't be caught dead asking something so personal and... _unsafe._ But all of that seemed so small and silly in light of Shiro's death and return by a miracle.

Might as well be honest while he could. He knew he might never get another chance.

Shiro had closed his eyes again, and he gave a soft laugh through his nose. "Honestly?" He opened his eyes, and they focused on Keith. "I think I saw a little bit of me in you."

Shiro's gaze slid to the side, as if he was thinking back on something, and a tiny smile crept onto his face. He looked Keith in the eye again. "Still do."

Keith had to smile back. He could have seen the pride, affection, and total support written all over that from two lightspans away. Shiro couldn't have been more blatant with how proud he was of how far Keith had come, and how much he believed in him.

Heck, Shiro had just _always_ been that obvious. He'd promised Keith that he'd never give up on him when Keith was nothing but a troublesome brat, and years later, he'd even asked Keith to lead Voltron in his stead. That had to have taken a _lot_ of trust—trust Keith wasn't sure he was worthy of at the time.

And yet...maybe now, he'd proven that he was worth that trust after all.

If to nobody else, then he'd proven it to _himself_.

Shiro clapped Keith's shoulder, shook him a little, and let him go. There was a slight change in Shiro's smile as he leaned his head back on the wall. Keith had to stare at it for a while before he figured out that Shiro's eyebrows had creased a little bit.

"Why were you hanging out outside my door?" asked Shiro.

Keith took a sharp breath in. _Oh._ Well, the answer was embarrassing, but there was nothing for it. This was the time to be honest, after all. "I-I was worried about you," Keith blurted out.

Shiro's white eyebrows went all the way down. _Oh, great._ It had just been concern barely masked by teasing before, and now it was _all_ concern.

"Keith, I'm here," Shiro said gently. He even had the big-brother voice on. "For real this time. I'm not going anywhere."

"I-I know," Keith stammered, "I just—" He made a few inarticulate sounds, gesturing with his hands in front of him, and when the words wouldn't come he groaned and slumped with his elbows on his knees.

He knew it was stupid. He knew he didn't have anything to be worried about. He knew that the worst of it was behind him, but that didn't stop him from being afraid— _terrified—_ that something would go wrong and he'd lose Shiro _again,_ just like he'd lost his mom, just like he'd lost his dad, just like he'd lost _everything else—_

But all of Keith's thoughts were interrupted because Shiro had already given a slight, understanding smile, reached forward, and pulled Keith up against his chest for a one-armed hug.

Keith's chin bumped into Shiro's shoulder. His eyes shot wide with the initial shock, and then they scrunched up, and he could feel the hot pressure of tears behind them.

 _No, no, stop it. Dang it..._

Keith's eyes welled up. He sniffed them back, fighting to keep it steady—and then he lost.

He might have lost Shiro once. Maybe he would lose Shiro again. But this time—just for a moment—he was _here_.

Keith lunged forward, wrapping his arms tight around Shiro and grabbing a fistful of his shirt. "I-I missed you," he choked out, crying, and not even trying to hold it back.

Shiro's single arm was wrapped around him tight, and he'd put his chin on Keith's shoulder. He sounded a little choked-up himself when he answered, "I missed you too."

Keith smiled through the wetness streaming down his cheeks.

 _It's okay. It's Shiro._

 _Shiro is home._

They stayed like that for a while before the communicator in Keith's helmet crackled to life; it was Hunk, announcing that his jury-rigged kitchenette in the Yellow Lion was successful and dinner was served. The comm erupted with cheers from everyone else on the team.

Shiro sat up and leaned forward to listen. He couldn't stop being team leader for just one second.

Good old Shiro.

Keith stole one last hug. He threw himself against Shiro as hard as he could and grinned at the little "oof" as all the air left Shiro's lungs.

 _Cause pain. Mission accomplished._

Shiro laughed and ruffled Keith's hair—which was already messy, at least by Lance's standards, so the effect was that Keith ended up with quite the mop on his head. He laughed, wrestled Shiro's hand off of him, and stood up, running his fingers through his hair to fix it.

Keith grabbed his helmet and boots and said with a smile, "I'll bring you back some food." It was a promise, a conditional one—for it to work, Shiro would have to be right in this spot, not dead, not gone, and not out of his mind—but Keith knew he would be, this time.

The worst of it was over. Shiro was home.

"Okay." Shiro smiled up at him, the tired lines under his eyes more pronounced than ever, and immediately lowered himself onto his side in the berth and laid his head on the pillow.

The sliding door wooshed open, but Keith stopped in the doorway. He couldn't seem to leave.

Shiro was back. He was safe. His eyes were shut, and he was asleep. For just a brief moment, nothing in the universe was here to put him in danger, and Keith couldn't help but be grateful for that. He deserved it, after everything.

But apparently Shiro wasn't asleep yet. Probably failing to hear the door slide shut, or with Keith's shadow still falling across his face, he cracked one eye open and smirked at Keith. "Hey..." he protested.

Keith laughed a little. "Okay, going! I'm going."

He left, and fitted on his helmet as he stepped out the door.

 _the end_

* * *

 **A/N: A confession of platonic love? Between boys? In MY mainstream media?**

 **It's more likely than you think.**

 **So yeah, hi, Voltron fandom. My name is Order and bromance will be both the life and the death of me. Please accept my humble offering because there is no way Shiro doesn't remember the clone battle and no way he's not going to return Keith's "I love you".**

 **That was a lot of double negatives.**

 **Reviews are helmets.**


End file.
